Flying in a locked down world

Ted. As I mentioned in my last post, our plan was to fly back to Georgia on March 30. Since that time, we experienced daily flight cancellations and rebookings [Anne - is this even a word?] as the airlines continued to whittle down the number of planes in the air. As I struggled with the rebookings, I recalled the words of boxer Mike Tyson; “Everyone has a plan until they get punched in the mouth.”

I’m not sure if all flights will be grounded but if you live near a major city, just look up and you’ll notice there are virtually no contrails anymore. The last time I saw that was in September of 2001!

As of 11:00am on Sunday, March 29, we were booked on a flight scheduled to depart Monday afternoon, March 30. With no cancellations for 24 hours, we were feeling pretty good when we received another text informing us that this flight had also been cancelled. Worried that we were never going to get out of New Mexico, I found a flight that was departing Albuquerque in just three hours. Judy and I discussed it briefly and decided that “a bird in the hand was worth two in the bush” so we booked it and began a mad scramble to pack. Our friend wasn’t available but our gracious Airbnb host, Peter agreed to drive us to the airport. When we walked up to the gate, it was spooky. There were almost no people. The welcoming words from the gate agent were "Please back away from the counter."

There were only about 6 passengers on our first flight to Houston. We wiped everything down and settled in. The flight attendant brought us snacks and soft drinks in the can (no cups or ice). Half the passengers had masks on the whole time.

Our freshly sanitized lunch

We arrived at George Bush Int’l Airport to find that one of the world’s busiest airports, which handles over 40 million passengers each year was a ghost town.

Dozens of planes just parked til normal times return

"Where's the beef?"

Closed til further notice

We walked around looking for a bite to eat but only found two places, both with long lines. We had a couple of passes to the one lounge open in the whole airport so we ended up there, where we relaxed over badly needed cocktails accompanied by chips and pretzels (no real food served).

Sanctuary!

Boarding our next flight, we were relieved when the plane backed out of the gate on time. Out on the runway the plane paused (never a good sign). The pilot informed us that there was a mechanical glitch and we returned to the gate (“Dang it!”). An hour later, we departed and ultimately landed in Atlanta just after midnight to see our good friend, Greg waiting by the curb.

Now we begin another two-week quarantine before joining our kids where we hope we can lend a hand by entertaining our four grandsons. Yes, it’s a nasty job but somebody has to do it!

Coronavirus, Part 2

Ted. We are still healthy, as is everyone in our family and extended family. Checking in with a number of friends, it appears that they are all in good shape (even the daughter of a friend who had a little scare).

The situation around the world continues to evolve and we do our best to keep up. On Monday, March 23, the Wall Street Journal reported that the US airlines were contemplating a complete shut down of all domestic flights. We know that rental car companies are headed in that direction as well. Even though Albuquerque is a great place to reside right now (191 known cases in NM vs 2,198 in GA), we decided that it made more sense to return to Atlanta one month early. We understand that we risk exposure to the virus by flying but believe that a three day road trip would be even riskier.

On March 24 we changed our flights and rebooked to fly back next Tuesday, March 31. That flight was cancelled the next day so we rebooked to fly back on March 30. The following day that flight was cancelled so we rebooked again, and are now scheduled to fly back on a later flight on March 30. We hope that will be the last change but, we just need to stay flexible. 

This is where our community has stepped up to help us big time. Our friend in Albuquerque, Jeff will drive us to the airport and our friend in Atlanta, Greg will pick us up when we arrive. Our friends Doug & Carolyn are hunkered down (there’s that phrase again) in their Florida house so have offered to let us stay at their Georgia house for a two week quarantine. After that, we plan to split up between our two kids houses so we can help them out.

Who knows what the future holds. However, we think it wiser to return to Georgia while we can. This way, we will be in a better position to help others, or get more help ourselves. Isn’t that one of the great benefits of a community?

We pray that wise leadership and the efforts of medical science will get us all through this difficult time sooner rather than later because there are a lot of kids out there that just want to get back to a normal childhood.

Be safe and keep smiling, y’all!

Number 4 grandson, Callum is 7 months old and ready to walk!

Falling in love again

Judy. Well, you just never know. We picked Albuquerque, New Mexico because Tucson, Arizona, was just too expensive, and we needed another month out West. Our friend Jeff lives here, and he said it’s pretty terrific, with lots of hiking and some cool history.

We didn’t know we’d fall in love almost at first sight.  

As you know, due to the Covid-19 outbreak, we cancelled our flight here and drove instead. Before we turned in the rental car, we loaded up on at least two weeks worth of groceries and bought bus passes.

Our refrigerator is full and the passes lie dormant in our wallets. With the virus running full tilt, we decided to self-isolate here, and we couldn’t have picked a lovelier place!

Our little casita located behind our host’s home is snug, cute, and a great place to settle in.  We’re in the Nob Hill area of Albuquerque, a block and a half off Route 66 (Central Ave.), a main thoroughfare here. 

Typical house in Nob Hill

The area was built in the thirties and forties, and they have not only saved and restored the sweet adobe-type homes, but the street has been pretty much preserved with signs from the 50’s. We’re close to dozens of restaurants, which might tempt us, were we not quarantined. The good news is that we can walk this lovely neighborhood and enjoy the sights.

Central Ave. toward downtown

Central Avenue bus stop

Today Jeff, who moved here from Georgia several years ago, came over to take a “physically distanced” walk with us. We’d hoped to go hiking together, but he has a 95-year-old mother, and we’d rather not take chances on passing on a virus we may not even know we have. After our walk, though, we decided that we MUST come back to spend time with Jeff showing us the city we can’t see now. 

Ted & Jeff

Spring is coming!

Meanwhile, our days are spent exercising in the spare room, taking a long walk around the area, studying Spanish, working a jigsaw puzzle we found, playing games, reading, and watching movies.

University of New Mexico Lobos

Oh, and sitting in the patio enjoying the sun and the coming of spring. Life is still good.

1000 pieces--keeping us busy!

West to New Mexico

Ted. If you are like us, you are getting a little bored and in search of content to read or watch. Judy and I will try to fill some of those empty minutes by putting a smile on your face with even more meaningless blog posts. It is in that spirit that I will document our recent road trip.

After five weeks in Texas, it was time for us to travel further west. Albuquerque, New Mexico is where we intended to spend the next four weeks. Our plan was to fly, but after Dr. Fauci from the NIH said that he wouldn’t fly, we decided to drive. Leaving our lovely ranch in the Hill Country at 8:00 am, we headed west. 40 minutes down the road, we made two "fuel" stops in Llano, Texas (home of the rock stackers). The Fuel Café was about the only place open at that hour and I saw the first of what would be many signs saying “To Go Only.” Americano in hand, it was on to Stripes gas for some more cheap Texas fuel for the car. 

Driving west on highway 71, it didn’t take us long to drop down out of the Hill Country onto the flat Texas plain around Brady.

From there, we turned onto US 87 and drove right through San Angelo. For hours, we only saw three things; cotton fields and oil and gas wells.

Lots of jobs...

...but plug ugly!

This area is known as the Permian Basin and is one of the world’s great reservoirs of fossil fuel. But let me tell you - that is one nasty looking part of the country. Dust from the freshly plowed fields combined with burn off from the wells made it look like the most boring part of hell. For all the wealth generated there, the local folks sure looked poor. Our lunch, in Brownfield, TX at the Cub Drive-In did nothing to dispel that image. The burritos were good and cheap so the place was a local favorite. Social distancing meant they would only allow 20 customers in at a time (we were numbers 19 and 20) so everyone else had to wait outside until a table emptied. Now, this is common on a Friday night in fashionable eateries in Atlanta but these folks were not used to that and there was a lot of grumbling.

Crossing the state line into New Mexico, the same views persisted but the towns were even poorer. The only thing uglier than west Texas, I concluded, is eastern New Mexico. 

No oil, no gas, no cotton, no water, no cattle, no sheep... no goats!

At last we crossed the Pecos River and decided to take a coffee break in the town of Roswell, NM. Yeah – that Roswell! Stellar coffee in hand, we strolled around downtown.  Talk about a one trick pony. Well, they don’t have oil or cotton in Roswell and a person has to make a living, so God bless ‘em.

Scary!

Where aliens come for their coffee

Chatting up a friendly local (and no need to social distance)

The last three hours were filled with increasingly majestic views. This is the Southwest we remembered from our years of living in Arizona. Red rocks and snowy peaks everywhere.

675 miles and 12 hours down the road, we checked into our Airbnb, a casita (cottage), situated on the property of our hosts in the Nob Hill neighborhood of Albuquerque. We found a chilled chardonnay in the fridge but I just dropped into bed.

Nuestra casita

Texans

Ted. There is probably not a more stereotypical image of a person from the US than a Texan. Say that word anywhere on the planet and it conjures up a certain image. From my years living in Colorado, it was not a flattering picture. A loud, brash, gun totting provincial comes to mind. 

Having just spent five weeks in the Lone Star State, however, my opinion has softened. The Texans that we met were generally soft spoken, kind and friendly and rarely spoke with a pronounced accent. Having also lived in Arizona, I was aware of a Westerner’s need for freedom, rights and open spaces. You had to be tough to carve a life out of the wilderness. In the South, folks are raised to be friendly, courteous and respectful. Texas bridges the two cultures, thus the term “Southwestern.”

Longhorns - the basis for the original Texan economy

There are a few characteristics that stand out. They seem comfortable with public displays of faith and patriotism. State pride is obvious. We probably see five Texas flags for every one US flag. Maybe that has something to do the unique political history of the state. Local residents (English speaking Texians and Spanish speaking Texanos) fought a war to carve out an independent republic in a corner of Mexico, and then merged with the US, joining an invasion of Mexico. A few years later, Texas seceded from the US to join the Southern Confederacy. After losing that war, Texas once again became part of the US.

WWI soldier memorial in Llano

Texans come in all colors and faiths. At least 50% of the folks at the rodeo appeared to be Hispanic. Newly freed slaves traveled to Texas right after the Civil War to create a number of communities that still form a vibrant part of the local culture.  

Guns are an important of the state’s history as a guarantor of personal freedom. However, they are to be handled responsibly.

Llano County promoting gun training

Texans don’t mince words. As an example, the signs on the highways forbidding littering say “Don’t Mess With Texas!” A show-off is dismissed as "All hat and no cattle!"

Personal responsibility and self-reliance are important. When a country road crosses a stream, there is rarely a bridge. The road goes down into the stream bed with a depth gauge on the side. It is assumed the driver knows the maximum depth at which the creek can be safely forded.

So, the next time someone mentions Texas or Texans, I will no longer smirk. California and New York? Well, it’s not a stereotype if it’s true!

The Hill Country

Judy. I’ve wanted to see the Hill Country of Texas for as long as I can remember. Ted’s reminded me of that: “So how long have you been asking me to come here? Thirty years?” Fortunately, we both have truly enjoyed it. And once again, it was not what I would have expected.

Our "Quaint Cabin"

When we arrived a week ago, there was not a bluebonnet to be seen, and the only wildflowers we saw were little yellow daisy-like blooms in the harsh, 

rocky, thorny hills. Our cabin was located on a ranch, and as we drove up the driveway, I was relieved to see that the main house and cabin were surrounded by beautiful trees, some sort of gnarled oak that gives this part of Texas a special beauty. We found out later that this is a species of live oak that is smaller than those found in Georgia. Our little cabin had a screened porch, a lovely Texas mountain laurel bush covered in purple blooms, and a resident tame deer who stopped by to beg. And we found we were on a Monarch butterfly migration route—right by the cabin. They loved stopping to snack on the mountain laurel!

Chatting with "Petsy"

Filling up for the journey

With the Covid-19 threat rearing its head, we found ourselves just driving through towns, sometimes getting out to walk, as in the charming town of Comfort, or to take our chances to eat some seriously fine Texas Barbecue in Kerrville (and scrub our hands like mad before and after). With the ranch up on a ridge, we found we could see changes in the countryside as we drove around, and began to appreciate how different this area is.

Our front view

On the ridge

One day we drove to Pedernales Falls State Park to hike. It’s spring break, and we were supposed to make a reservation to get in—true for all of the parks in this area. Fortunately, most of the hundreds of people there were at the Pedernales Falls area, and we were in the opposite direction, crossing the river on foot, and climbing up to a ridge for a five mile hike. I can’t say it’s the prettiest hike I’ve ever taken, but the park was originally a ranch (a bequest to the state), and it was interesting to see old stone fences and corrals now covered in brush. We saw very few people on our walk, and it was good to get outdoors. 

Pedernales Park view

We drove in Fredericksburg and Dripping Springs on separate occasions to buy groceries and see something new, and got a taste of the empty shelves and long lines to buy food during the possible quarantine. Interestingly, it didn’t seem to keep folks from shopping and gathering in tight groups. We kept our distance!  

Typical Fredericksburg house

Another day we drove to Llano to stand on a bridge (social distancing) and watch the World Championship Rock Stacking contest. There were categories in artistic creations, height, balance and arches. We couldn’t get too close, but enjoyed it—it inspired Ted to try his own hand at rock stacking on one of our ranch walks. 

World Championships!

New hobby?

On our way home, we stopped to look at Enchanted Rock—the Hill Country version of Georgia’s Stone Mountain. It is truly beautiful, but the line of hikers walking up the hill looked like those photos of folks waiting to summit Mount Everest!

Enchanted Rock

Back at the ranch, there was plenty enough to do.  We walked down to an overlook that Larry, our host, told us about, to watch a glorious sunset, watched as Larry flew his gyrocopter around the area, walked to another overlook for a view for miles.

Larry's gyrocopter

Sunset from the ridge

The walk back to the cabin

Each time we drove out, as we began to descend the hills, we saw more and more wildflowers, exactly what I had hoped for! I knew we’d not see meadows blanketed in bluebonnets and Indian paintbrush, but we saw enough to know what a knockout view it would be in a few weeks.

Early in the week

Toward the end of the week

Yeah, it was worth waiting thirty years to see.